


The Nature of Monkey was Irrepressible

by oroc



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Persona 2, Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Cloaca, Consentacles, Interspecies, Lovecraftian, M/M, Mind Control, Post-Canon, Spiritual, Tentacles, Vore, Voyeurism, Wrestling, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5250581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oroc/pseuds/oroc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaos crawls over to cover Kanji.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Nature of Monkey was Irrepressible

Kanji owns a textile store. He is a weaver. He's damn good at it. He makes a living with it. Grandmother passed away and left him the shop, which he expanded. Half the town makes a living with it: people visit for it. He sees his friends in the cafe. He sees his lovers in the back.

He sees himself on TV in a few morning segments.

"Mr. Tatsumi, your shop has boosted the economy of your town three-fold! How do you feel about this?"

"Uh, good. Thank you."

He sees himself in the TV at night.

"At last, our lime trees are fruiting."

"Bearing us fruitful fucking limey limes..."

It's unnerving, really, because none of the people he sees himself interacting with on these shows are familiar to him. This is the most common one: the lime tree orchard. Everyone saw himself, Yu and the rest of them fighting Izanami, arresting Adachi...

...And this isn't him as he is now. The Kanji in the lime show, laying back in the arms of this big Viking guy, has Kanji's current figure. Much wider, buffer, but the hair and skull-shirt are from when he was 17. 

"I hope none of those lime-stealing bears are around," Thor whispers in his ear.

"Those naughty, lime-stealing bears. Always trying to profit from our hard green work..." Sure enough, to the rear-left, there was Teddie sneaking in... Muscular, bearded Teddie, since he started working out with Kanji, but he had that frilled shirt from back in the day, into which he was throwing fresh limes. "Hasn't it been about ten seconds since we looked away from our limes?"

This show always ended the same fucking way: Kanji gets spit roasted between the dark-haired muscle-god and Teddie, never mind that Teddie was the damn thief. It wasn't fair. Kanji kept crying out what sounded like a gargled 'Paddy' with Teddie's dick filling his mouth. This wasn't even wish fulfilment - Kanji wasn't desperate enough to want Teddie's prissy prick mouth in bed anymore.

Paddy was presumably a reference to the second most common program: the rice paddy. Kanji is the damsel, there, swept away from his job managing the farm's accounts by Take-Minakata, rescued in an oddly erotic sumo match by Take-Mikazuchi... And spit-roasted between the horned bastard and the electric knight.

Fucking TV world.

No-one else seems to be seeing it, either. Just him. He's on better terms with Yosuke since he came out - *much* better, as that was what it took to stop Yosuke from seeing Kanji as somehow predatory. Yosuke, Teddie, Yu, Chie, Yukiko - nobody else was seeing it.

So Kanji went in, of course, to find a forest - not a lime orchard.

He walked through the forest, seeing his thoughts in some places. He sees himself - the Shadow portion - take his Persona's head off and wink at him. He kisses the Shadow, holds him - they wait a minute. 

"I'm me."

The forest is darker and bluer the further Kanji goes. The Shadows just wait around... Looking at him, waiting for him to recognise his place is further on. Kanji entered in just his nightclothes - Summer, so it a pair of briefs - shut up - but he dutifully dragged his deckchair behind him. 

Kanji remembers it before he experiences it. Moss turned to ivy knotted into a thick latticed tunnel down to a pool of water. The forms on the walls were odd - whatever form Kanji's eyes lingered on seemed to be swallowed up by some vine or other in the sculpture, which was itself wreathed in something else. From a distance, nothing - in passing, obscene suggestions of human shapes - in detail, nothing.

In the lake is a sculpture, some fucking modern thing like they put next to new industrial estates. Three thickly-muscled trunks for legs, a really well-defined body, well defined arms... Its - his? - wrists have sleeves like tangled, spineless aloe. A huge whip emerges like a lizard's tongue instead of a neck, bearing a little beard of its own polyps.

But it's looking at him. A mouth on the whip and two on his forearms slip open like it was obvious they were there, and lick their - are they lips? 

Kanji's over-thinking his anatomy. 

"Tatsumi Kanji," it says, voice like reverb in syrup. 

"Nyarlathotep," Kanji breathes out, on his own. Then - "Wait, what the fuck? How do I know your name? I'd sure fucking remember meeting you."

"We are in the... Er..." The whip-head's tip is a nice shade of green, Kanji notices, like his feet. Somehow Nyarlathotep loses his air of unnameable dread when searching for words. "'TV world''s forest. Memories can slip between us in this part, the basis of the Collective Unconscious."

"Oh," Kanji says. He's no scholar, but he's not an idiot either - this world takes people's thoughts and makes them manifest, and Labrys made him see and feel things, so memories... Yeah, it worked. "Can we - can we still?"

"Yes," Nyarlathotep replies, walking with ease to him. (Kanji looks - how does this work with three fucking legs? He can't work it out. Fuck.) "Hello, sir. I am Nyarlathotep, and you have come to my home."

"S-sorry, sir," Kanji says, offering his hand - oh, Nyarlathotep's got nice green hands inside the bush of tendrils. And a ring. Huh. "I'm Tatsumi Kanji. I used to come here and fight Shadows."

"And accept them," Nyarlathotep reminds him, his handshake firm but overlong - Kanji's wrist gets fondled a bit by the little black arms. They're warm as a person would be, but softer and drier. "I see here your friend is... Still a friend." He gestures with his other hand to Kanji's Shadow, who stares up at him with a hand on his hip. 

"H-heh, yeah." Why is Kanji just fucking talking with him like he's his new boss? "There's a time and place for repression, right?"

"You did come here in your underwear."

"You're naked, dude." The guy's taller than Kanji, and he realises with some embarrassment that he's standing between two big knees. Two big thighs. A few of the little blue discs - suckers? - lead up between...

"I am a metaphysical concept, Tatsumi Kanji, I am *allowed* to be naked. It's acceptable. Respectable." Is he making *fun* of him? Or is he hitting on him?

"Which concept?" What do people feel that looks like this?

"The Shadow. Everything you people repress strengthens me. I am the... Ah..." The green hand lifts Kanji's chin up. He was trying to see again. Is Nyarlathotep a guy? He sounds like a guy. "The destructive potential of this world, of everyone's thoughts. You and your friends have drawn me here..."

Kanji freezes.

"...You killed Izanami, Kagutsuchi... The others killed Nyx... Your Personas were destructive indeed." 

"That was years ago." Kanji relaxes - a little. 

"I was shy."

"What?" Kanji steps back, lifts the chair. "You were SHY about coming to fucking kill Inaba?"

"I don't want to kill anyone right now!" Nyarlathotep raises his hands in surrender, his head-whip shyly bunching to itself. "I just - I wanted to meet you."

"Answer the fucking question! WHY did you want to meet us?"

"Not all of you. You. I - I'm doing this all wrong." It turns its head - face fairly indicated by its sideways mouth and beard - to look away. "I thought I could... Meet you."

Kanji drops the chair, and sizes Nyarlathotep up - but not for a fight.

"You think I'm cute, huh." 

"Mmhm." Nyarlathotep leans back... "You don't mind me, either." Kanji walks forward, ducks a little to look between Nyarlathotep's legs. This is happening.

"No," Kanji murmurs, "I don't mind." In between is... Not another mouth, but a three-lobed - hole? Is it an eye? There's something bright red, and it's behind three black 'lips'. "In fact, I... Y-you're weird, but it's..."

"You want to bake for me," Nyarlathotep whispered, and Kanji felt the tentacles of that 'sleeve' again, running through his hair and around his neck. Nyarlathotep lifts him up, and sets him down on his lap - Kanji falls forward a little, but straddles the big leg tightly, and wraps his arms around the monster's waist. "Or is that what you still do for those you like?"

"I-I... I could still... I do, yeah." Kanji leans in and presses a kiss to the head-mouth, feeling Nyarlathotep's arm-mouths open and close hotly around his lips. His shadow is behind them - then walking, dazed, to where Kanji had stared up at Nyarlathotep. A long, thin rope falls down from the middle, and curls around the Shadow's neck, then spirals down, binding him. Nyarlathotep shivers. "That's your cock, huh?"

"O-one of them, yes." Kanji can't help but feel that the embodiment of humanity's repressed desires and their destructive potential should be more confident, but he's seeing the god come apart. As the other Kanji shifts and moves in the undulating grip, Nyarlathotep shivers and moans, these blue suckers - 

Kanji jumps forward, and sticks himself to Nyarlathotep's chest. He pulls back - yeah, a little give, but he's definitely attached. Good. Nyarlathotep laughs - a horrible, but wonderful sound - and Kanji wraps his legs around the great waist, to kiss him properly.

'Properly'. Their mouths are the wrong orientations, and Kanji's face gets stuck to Nyarlathotep's with the six suckers bordering his mouth, and they both laugh, and... Just stay like that for a bit. 

Nyarlathotep whispers to Kanji, now that he has a captive audience, about cities he'd show him, about what Kanji wishes no-one else to know what he wants, about Dojima rimming him into confession, about wrestling with Akihiko where the winner gets to top and dom the other, about running his tongue along all of Akihiko and Sho's scars like he's addicted to them.

"Please..." Kanji's ass is kneaded, he's not sure by what, and his hole just - pressed at a bit, tongued, bit - ever so slightly. "I wanna be in you," Kanji whimpers, and the suckers let go. The young Emperor doesn't know if these marks will last.

"You can figure out what to do," Nyarlathotep says, brushing just over the tip of his cock.

"Huh?" His Shadow is gone.

"...Or not. Go down there and look up." Kanji unwinds from Nyarlathotep and drops down into the warm water and soft sand. Actually, no, the water's heated up a lot... He sees the green cock coiling from the three lips, and reaches up to pull it down.

"GH'THEGN-"

"Too tight?"

"No, just like that, but -" The entire thing pours out of the cloaca and pushes Kanji down like a heavy, narcoleptic serpent. It doesn't look that different from the whip at the top - pitch tapering to green with the odd black and green band - but thinner. It's strong, too. Kanji struggles with it, trying first to bear-hug it to him, but it's too slippery, and enough slithers from his grasp to trip him.

Within about five minutes of fevered ad ridiculous UFCing with the monster's cock, Kanji is bound like his shadow was, and getting pulled up into the middle.

"You gonna -- is it safe?" He wants to know what's inside so much. He doesn't know why. He's never normally this trusting. 

"You'll live, Kanji, and you'll live - nnh - and you'll live *well*." It starts hoisting him up and the three folds of the hole open, giving Kanji the sight of - his own Shadow, smiling down. It falls right down into him, splashing into dark liquid that suffuses itself into him. He knows what it will be like, now, but feels it for the first time, walls of muscle wrapped around him where the fleshy cable isn't, so tight, so hot that Kanji forgets that breathing is something you normally need to do. 

It's his other fantasy, really, bear hugging. Akihiko got so affectionate after the 'climax' thing, he left bruises. He'd look right into Kanji's eyes and feel him get hard through his jeans, then leave. Fucking tease. Fucking amazing.

Nyarlathotep's cloaca pulls him right up to his ankles. Kanji can only see black in here, but he thinks the walls are pink. If Nyarlathotep were transparent, Kanji would be looking out through his sternum. No guts, no other organs? 

The cock slips out from around him, retreating to wherever it should have been. Nyarlathotep's body closed and tight and hot and wet around him is enough to stop him falling down. He can feel a soft breeze at his ankles, still outside the beast.

"Comfy?" Nyarlathotep pats his chest, and Kanji feels it as if he was pet by a father, or master.

"Yuhnh," Kanji says, nearly passing out with the effort of speech.

"Then we'll begin."

Nyarlathotep's flesh crawls over Kanji's, stimulating him to try to cry out, and when Kanji fails, he starts trying to move, like a drowning man.

"F'tghn... Yes, that's it. Please me, Kanji, that's so good..."

He must look pretty goofy with Kanji filling him up like this. 

"Fight me now, Kanji," Nyarlathotep hisses. "Struggle. Please." 

Kanji finds renewed strength in the encouragement, and punches at the wall, weakly - then realises he has more freedom of movement just with his hips and knees. Kanji squirms with less and less desperation in each wriggle. Wherever Nyarlathotep's prostate is - if that's what it is? It's next to Kanji's abdomen. Every time he hits that round bit of resistance, Nyarlathotep stops being able to speak. Kanji bites down at the walls around him like a panicked animal, then like a seasoned predator, then holds down there - never able to draw blood, or break the wall, but wrestling with the muscle behind the skin.

The cry he draws from the god comes after long, arduous hours of learning his responses and nerves, but Kanji is nothing if not patient, and he's definitely able to breathe here is he survived that. He stays hard throughout it, but it's the hardness he feels when he spars with Akihiko or Yu - not a need, just how he feels. It yells out, like a cry of surrender, and collapses onto its three knees. Kanji has been doing the right thing, so he repeats the pattern, pushing at the walls, snapping like a stapler when he misses with his teeth, and feels them leak.

Each writhe pulls a cry like Nyarlathotep's been punched out. Kanji smells something different around him. Unnatural gentleness comes out of the thin green tentacle re-wrapping him, and he wants to kick it off, wants to fight... To sleep.

"N-nay-"

"Satisfying, Tatsumi, but we're forgetting about you. Do unto others, son." Nyarlathotep's voice is ragged now. Kanji is so exhausted from this that he just slips down... The walls around him cling only enough to hold him in the beast's innards, now. The tentacle-penis slips between his thighs, leaking an exquisitely lukewarm oil onto him, then into him, then sliding inside...

Kanji's neck is constricted by muscle, but the cavity opens to let him breathe. 

"Ono... P-please, I haven't..." Is he trying to negotiate, or? Should he be clearer? Can he? "No-one's..." Nyarlathotep is slipping inside him, and Kanji closes his eyes and relaxes into it. He opens them to see colours from nowhere on Earth undulating in slow waves. "What..."

"Just to keep your head in the game, Kanji," Nyarlathotep murmurs, cheekily. Kanji feels his head - his *mind* opening. He visualises his Persona melting. He realises that's happening. "It's only natural to feel like this."

"I..." Kanji's eyes were hungry for colour. Any colour, after the hours of pitch black. These are too many. These are inside him, now, and he might remember them forever, but he may never see them again. Nyarlathotep is opening his ass and resting his cock where it is, filling him.

"Now, we're at the part where I please you," comes the eldritch coo. "I'm about to start moving. I can read your heart, so I'll know to stop when you need me to. Meanwhile, I will keep you nice and happy looking at how I feel about you. Are you ready?"

"..."

"Good."

In and out - in and - in and -

Kanji doesn't say anything. His face doesn't move. He stares forward into the crawling coils of colour that meditate him. His conscious mind is shut off to leave him only living on sensation. The painful pleasure of the cock inside him curling forward and forcing orgasm out of him feels like the most intense relief he's ever felt. Even after his life has been in danger, even after worlds were saved. His face doesn't move. He hasn't blinked.

It was fair of the god, Kanji thinks, after they've had their wet afterglow - after they've talked in the shower, because the fucking thing can come out of its world, too.

If he'd felt all that without Nyarlathotep in his head, he would have been close to breaking. 

"This is my number," Nyarlathotep whispers to him in their last hug for the week. His wrist-arms are punching it into his phone. "Be a good boy and keep in touch with me until next time I bring you in."

"Yes, Daddy," Kanji replies, in his sleep.


End file.
